The Right Wife

by Beverly Barton

  “Don’t be hasty. Take time and think about it. I won’t rush you, but I will be back when you’ve had time to consider the matter.”

  “Wesley, I don’t need time.”

  “Oh, but you do, my dear. When you’ve thought it through, you’ll realize that I’m your only hope.”

  She stood and watched him leave, amazed that she had never realized the truth about Wesley before now. It seemed as if two different people possessed that large, round body: one, gentle and giving, the other, vindictive and quite insane.

  Daisy walked into the kitchen, her blue eyes searching Maggie’s face for understanding. For long moments the two women stared at each other, an unspoken question and reply being exchanged.

  Maggie was glad to finally be outside. Even with every window open and an abundance of hand fans, the opera house had been steamy with a midsummer, Southern-night heat. She felt wilted, and wondered how the serene Widow Arnold could appear so cool, standing there on the white-columned porch, her ivory cambric dress unstained by perspiration, every pastel bow still neatly tied as they adorned the entire length and width of her skirt.

  The last two hours had been sheer torment. Between the smoldering discomfort of the humid night and the presence of Aaron and Eunice sitting directly across the aisle, the entire evening’s festivities had been ruined. She had barely noticed any of the play performed by local would-be thespians. From the moment she had caught sight of Aaron’s broad back as he turned to allow Eunice to precede him to their seats, Maggie had seen nothing but the golden couple, had heard nothing but the thud of her own angry heart beating in her ears, and had felt nothing but a soul-searing jealousy.

  Aaron looked so handsome in his tan breeches and nut-brown coat, his gold silk tie, a shade darker than his mane of thick, blond hair. He had spoken to Eunice, and Maggie hated her. He had smiled at Eunice, and Maggie’s heart broke. He had held Eunice’s hand, and Maggie gasped, barely able to hold back the tears.

  Once or twice, Thayer had patted her hand gently, and she had smiled at him in thanks. The last time, after patting, he raised her hand to his lips and looked past her across the aisle. Maggie’s eyes followed and immediately clashed with Aaron’s deadly jade glare. His lips had thinned to a hard, straight line, his jaw clenched tightly. She had looked away then, and prayed for the performance to end soon.

  A gentle, warm breeze touched Maggie’s face and brushed stray curls forward about her bright pink cheeks. Aaron looked across the few yards that separated them there in front of the opera house. He longed to go to her. Why the hell hadn’t Thayer told him that he was bringing the Campbells here tonight? He had stayed far away from Maggie these last four weeks, as much for her sake as for his. He could offer her nothing except heartbreak and shame, and she deserved so much more.

  It was obvious that she had a hard time controlling her thick, red hair. The bun atop her head was loose and tiny strands framed her face and curled down her neck. He remembered the feel of that silky mass, could, even now, smell the rainwater sweet aroma. He could also remember the feel and smell and taste of other fiery curls.

  He cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool. During these past weeks, he had secluded himself at White Orchard, working day and night, driving the workers to the breaking point, trying to prepare the mansion for his bride. But it was not Eunice Arnold’s face he saw reflected in the ornate gold mirror in the master bedroom, nor was it Eunice’s happy laughter he heard in the long hallways. Maggie haunted every room in the old house, every acre of land over which he rode. And her presence was so alive in the pear orchard that he often thought he could see her lying there in the green grass, her arms reaching up to pull him onto her naked body.

  He heard her laugh at something Thayer said, and white-hot jealousy shot through his body like fire. He had no right to be jealous of any man Maggie chose to be with, but the thought of her giving herself to anyone else was agonizingly painful. Had she slept with Thayer? Did he love her? Would he marry her? Damn, he had to stop tormenting himself over a woman he couldn’t have. He had made his choice. He had to stay true to his dreams. He owed it to himself. He owed it to his mother.

  Taking Eunice by the arm he led her away past the crowd, trying to avoid Thayer and Maggie on their way to where Phineas was waiting with the carriage. He thought he had made it safely away, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Thayer’s voice. “You seem in a hurry tonight, Aaron. I wanted to talk to you.”

  Dreading to turn around, he hesitated. Then he and Eunice turned together to the other couple.

  “Hello, Thayer,” Aaron said.

  Eunice merely smiled and nodded, completely ignoring Maggie, who was busy inspecting the ground.

  “My, Eunice, don’t you look lovely tonight.” Thayer’s lazy gaze moved over the willowy blonde.

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, you both remember Miss Maggie, don’t you? Tonight’s her brother Micah’s seventeenth birthday, and we’re enjoying a little family celebration.”

  “I didn’t know you were part of the Campbell family,” Aaron said.

  The people near the two couples were all watching, whispering, and pointing. Maggie felt very uncomfortable being the center of so much attention. She could well imagine what everyone was saying. How many of these good people thought that she was now Thayer Coleman’s mistress?

  “You might say that I’m an honorary member,” Thayer said. “Isn’t that right, Maggie?”

  Thayer had called her name, but she wasn’t sure what he had said. She was too busy trying not to look at Aaron, and wishing that she had gone on the buggy with Micah and Jude.

  “Aaron, I do need a private word with you,” Thayer requested. “I promise to only keep him a few minutes, Eunice.”

  Suddenly Maggie found herself alone beside the Widow Arnold, the two men moving toward a less crowded area. She uttered up a prayer, asking God to keep her from clawing out the other woman’s eyes.

  “It’s rather warm tonight, isn’t it?” Eunice said, looking around her, avoiding facing Maggie directly.

  “Yes.”

  “I understand your family is still living in Thayer’s house.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you taking in sewing?” Eunice’s brown eyes traveled the length of Maggie’s dress, from the simple high-necked bodice to the long, slightly tapered skirt.

  Self-consciously, Maggie straightened the green gingham bow centered at her waist where her polonaise of the same tiny checks met in soft gathers. “Yes, I am.”

  Why was the woman trying so hard to carry on a polite conversation when it was apparent that she hated Maggie as much as Maggie hated her? Obviously, genteel ladies were taught that social graces had to be observed in public under any and all conditions.

  “Did you enjoy the play?” Eunice asked, a tight smile on her pale face. “Aaron found it quite amusing. I’m sure that once we’re married, we will continue to come here often.”

  “It’ll be a long drive from White Orchard.”

  “Oh, dear, you can’t mean you actually think Aaron will want to live on the God-forsaken plantation once he marries me? He knows I love living in town.”

  “Does he?”

  “Of course he does. White Orchard might be suitable for a summer place, but I have plans for us to build a new house in town.”

  “I see.” Oh, yes, Maggie could see. She could see how completely miserable Aaron would be married to the good widow.

  “You heard about Rube Whitcomb escaping from jail, didn’t you?” Thayer asked.

  “Is that why you dragged me all the way over here, to tell me something I knew before noon today?” Aaron growled, taking a cigar from his coat pocket.

  “I guess you’re not worried since I’m the one he was shooting at.”

  “We both testified against him, and I’m the one who pressed charges. But I figured he’s long gone from these parts by now.” Aaron lit the cigar, the silver smoke spiraling out into the darkness.
/>
  “Yeah, that’s what I think.”

  “Then what’s this all about?”

  “I thought you might want to join me tonight. I’m taking young Micah Campbell out on the town to celebrate his birthday the way gentlemen should.”

  “You’re taking him to Loretta’s?” Aaron laughed, then took a puff on his cigar.

  “Damn right. What better way to celebrate? I think it’s the perfect birthday present for the boy.”

  “Have you asked Maggie?” Aaron could imagine her reaction. She felt very maternal about her younger siblings.

  “She’d only worry if she knew.”

  “Worry? She’d flay the daylights out of you, and him, too.”

  “Micah wants to go. He’s eager to drink hard liquor and have his first woman. Come with us. Verda’s back in town, and she’s working at Loretta’s now. You’d enjoy a tumble with her. She’s one sweet—”

  “I have to take Eunice home.”

  “So take her home. Meet me at the town house. We’ll wait for you.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What happened, did Maggie castrate you?”

  Aaron felt heat suffuse his face. Damn Thayer! The man knew him too well. He hadn’t had another woman since the day he’d met Maggie Campbell in May. Here it was August, and he still had no desire to bed anyone but the flame-haired witch who went wild in his arms.

  “Wait for me.” Aaron threw his half-smoked cigar to the ground, crushing it with his foot. “I’ll meet you as soon as I escort Eunice home. I’m looking forward to seeing Verda again.”

  Maggie planted both small fists on her hips and glared up at Aaron Stone. There was nothing she would like better than to slap his face. He had arrived only minutes earlier, standing in the doorway, refusing to come in. Thayer and Micah were standing directly behind her in the foyer.

  “I said, where are you planning on taking Micah for this all-male party?” she demanded.

  “Ah, Maggie, quit making such a fuss and just let us leave,” Micah said.

  “I promise I’ll look after him,” Thayer added, placing a brotherly arm about the young man’s shoulders.

  “I can well imagine what you two have in mind for him,” Maggie said. “You’ll have him smoking and drinking and gambling and worse.”

  “And worse, Maggie?” Aaron asked, looking past her at the two young men shaking their heads and waving their arms, warning him against pushing this mothering female too far.

  “You know very well that I’m talking about whores,” Maggie said. “Just because you and Thayer have bedded every whore in the South doesn’t mean my brother should.”

  “Ah, Maggie, it’s my birthday.” Micah moved closer to his sister and placed a hand on her tense arm.

  “You want to go, don’t you?” she asked, her yellow eyes flashing golden sparks.

  “Look, Maggie,” Thayer intervened. “I’ll admit we’re planning on going to Loretta’s, but I promise that we’ll take care of Micah and bring him home all in one piece come morning.”

  While she stood with her back to them, her shoulders shaking from rage and unshed tears, Thayer pulled a reluctant Micah toward the waiting carriage.

  Aaron hated to see her so upset, but sooner or later she’d have to let go of Micah and allow him to live his own life. She had been a mother to him far too long.

  “Maggie.”

  “What are you still doing here?” she screeched as she twirled around to face him.

  “Micah is a young man with needs. It’s only normal he’d want a woman.” Aaron was so close to her that he could feel the warmth of her body.

  “Damn you!”

  “Quit thinking like a mother. You can’t keep him away from what he wants. He should have already had his first woman before now.”

  “And of course, who should know better than you. You probably had your first woman when you were twelve.”

  Aaron laughed, realizing that all of her spitting and scratching was as much over the fact that he was going to Loretta’s as over anything else. “Hardly, I was sixteen.”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  “Maggie, you’re jealous.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t like the idea that I might enjoy the pleasure of another woman in my bed.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her gently. “Will you calm yourself if I promise to stay away from all of Loretta’s girls?”

  “I don’t care what you do. You’re not my husband. You’re not my fiancé. You’re not my anything!”

  “Oh, but Maggie, I am. I’m your lover.”

  She looked up into his smiling face. He was so cocksure. She longed to strike him. She’d show him! But when she raised her hand to slap him, he grabbed her wrist seconds before her palm made contact with his cheek.

  “Temper, temper, Maggie.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she struggled to free herself.

  “Let me go!”

  “Not until you calm down.”

  She stopped struggling and stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the silky sheen of his tie. “They’re waiting on you. Go on!”

  “I’d rather stay here with you, but we both know that I can’t.”

  “Don’t do this to me,” she cried. “Don’t do this to us.”

  His lips moved over hers, savoring the taste.

  “No, don’t,” she sighed.

  “Oh, sweet Maggie, I have to.”

  Their mouths joined, open and waiting, their tongues mating in a frenzy of need. He stroked her back with his big hand as her arms reached up to circle his neck. In one deft movement, he pulled her hair free from the loose bun confining it.

  She could not resist this. Maybe she didn’t really want to. Did he own her, body and soul? Perhaps. And it was just possible that she wielded the same power over him.

  “I want you,” Aaron groaned, burying his face in the rainwater sweetness of her hair as his lips nibbled on her ear.

  Her feet dangled in the air as he held her tightly. His mouth covered hers again.

  “Aaron!” Thayer’s voice called loudly from the carriage where he and Micah waited, Phineas standing vigil by the horses.

  Aaron lowered Maggie’s feet to the porch, his head descending as he continued kissing her.

  “Let’s go,” Thayer called out again. “We want to get there before midnight.”

  “I have to go,” Aaron said, still holding her in his arms.

  “I am jealous.” She pulled back, looking up into his emerald eyes so full of desire.

  The moonlight shimmered dark and then light as a cloud passed across the yellow globe. Far in the distance a dog barked, and close by the carriage horses whinnied. Reality and unreality blended.

  “I haven’t bedded another woman since the day we met.”

  “Aaron?”

  “Maybe I should. Maybe it would free us both.”

  “No. Please, no.”

  He kept walking toward the waiting carriage. “Let’s get going,” he called out to Thayer. “I want to get to Loretta’s and have a celebration drink with Verda.”

  Maggie stood on the herringbone brick walkway watching the cabriolet drive away. She choked back the tears as pain gripped her chest. Damn Aaron Stone! Damn men!

  She turned and walked toward the porch, stopping to pick a bud from the pink rosebush growing near the steps. She held it to her nose, breathing in its uniquely sweet fragrance.

  Would Aaron make love to this Verda creature? The thought was more than she could bear. Hot, salty tears ran from her topaz eyes and covered the tender petals of the rosebud she held tightly in her hand.

  Chapter 13

  Maggie rested her head in her hands as she sat curled up in a brown leather wing chair in the town house library, the wrinkled edge of her green muslin dress wrapped over her bare feet. Moonlight cast shadowy images against the paneled walls and numerous bookshelves while she sat alon
e staring out the long, narrow windows into the backyard. She had not made any attempt to go to bed because she knew sleep would be impossible. After checking on a peacefully sleeping Jude for the third time, she had finally retreated to the library where she had been sitting and thinking for hours.

  It was useless worrying about Micah. No doubt, he was having the time of his life. He would never have made a minister anyway. He enjoyed worldly pleasures far too much. Maybe all of the Campbells were doomed to sins of the flesh.

  Ever since Ma had died when Jude was born, Maggie had taken over. Mothering had come naturally to her. But Micah didn’t need that anymore. She had to let go. Aaron and Thayer had forced her to accept the fact that her little brother was a man, and men made their own decisions and lived their own lives.

  She couldn’t help but wonder what decisions Aaron had made once he got to Loretta’s. Was he, at this very minute, in bed with the bosomy Verda? Had he been with her all night?

  Maggie hurt. The pain was everywhere. It was inside her body, tormenting her mind, ripping her heart to shreds. It was all around her, crushing down on her, suffocating her. Moment by moment, the anguish of jealousy steadily grew until she was afraid that she was going insane. She was tempted to go to Loretta’s, to find Aaron, to see what he was doing, and with whom. The reality could be no worse than the images in her mind.

  She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out the tiny pink rosebud she had plucked so many hours ago. It was already dying, darkness edging the petals. Like dreams, so beautiful when fresh but destined to an early end, the flower lay in Maggie’s palm, a symbol of all she had hoped, a reminder of all she had lost. Had it been only ten weeks ago that she had left Grovesdale with a heart full of wishes and a head full of plans? Micah would probably take that job on Aaron’s steamboat and spend his life roaming the river. That was a far cry from the respectable profession Pa had wanted for him. And what about Jude? Was it foolish to expect that dream to come true? Maggie’s own reputation might prove to be the major reason this town would never accept Judith as a lady. Had her love for Aaron destroyed everything?